Reckless Seas
by pasturerose
Summary: The rebellious daughter of the noble Reiss family is to be married off on her nineteenth birthday to the oldest son of the richest man in the world, the catch? Her future Fiance, Rich Arics is a heartless pig, and Historia isn't interested in marrying. Luckily for her, a creature of the reckless sea has been watching her and won't let the sweet blond be taken from her so easily.
1. Chapter 1: Shoreline Charades

_**Chapter One: Shoreline Charades**_

Perhaps it was the sea breeze or the way the waves caress the grains that had the blond practically skipping down the sandy shores. Her blue eyes were as bright as the clear sky overhead. Her petite form seemed it could easily be blown over by the salty winds and taken by the lapping waves. Today was a calm day, however, the wind doing nothing more than teasing the golden locks while the waves timidly reached out to plant foamy kisses on her bare feet.

Her footprints were quickly washed away by the waves as they dragged across the shore like they wanted to keep the girl's frolicks a secret, and for good reason. It's as if the ocean knew the trouble the innocent maiden would be in if she was found.

She was born into the family of rich nobles that resided in the sprawling seaside estate. Miles of white sand beaches were under their control as well as acres of carefully tended gardens and carefully manicured lawns.

It wouldn't have been a problem if the girl was wandering those beaches, with at least two of the maids trailing her, but ever the curious, Historia Reiss had saddled her lightly dappled mare( by herself) and raced away from her family's summer dwellings to explore the forests outside their sheltered reaches.

So when the trees had become too close together to safely navigate her Lipizzaner mare through she had swiftly dismounted, careful not to tangle her skirts and cursing them all them all the while. Seeing as the sleek English side saddle( she much preferred the regular saddles but could never ride with one as it would be looked down upon to sit on a horse in such a way when wearing her elegant skirts and it wasn't as if she could wear riding pants.) would be much too cumbersome when riding in such rough terrain, she had simply slipped on Aponi's black leather halter and tied the lead to make makeshift reins.

Riding bareback was nothing new to her, but it had been forever since she had felt Aponi's soft pearlescent hide, the powerful rocking of her smooth stride the expanding of her barrel as she breathed in rhythm to her quick sure gait. Her stepmother had caught her once and banned it. But Historia being Historia she had managed to stray from the watchful eyes of her personal servants and the cold critical gaze of her governess.

While she enjoyed dancing, etiquette and proper mannerisms were a bore. She wasn't ever allowed outside by herself anymore, warned constantly that the filthy lower class leeches would come to spirit her away if she was caught unawares on her lonesome. She wasn't a loner by nature, loving company and being social, but the strict parties and rigid class expectations made them long boring and laborious endeavors that left her drained and feeling more misplaced and lonely than ever.

So when the household was busy preparing for their only surviving young mistresses ninetieth birthday no one had noticed the girl slip out. She led the gentle mare through the trees and bracken until a branch low enough for her to reach seemed up to the task of holding her dear Aponi so she wouldn't wander.

She felt bad tethering the horse, as she hated being kept under lock and key in the grand mansion on the hill, but it was a necessary measure to ensure her mounts safety. If she wandered near the roads someone could steal the prized mare. This only made her feel worse as she was tying the mare up for the same reasons her mother had kept her inside.

Aponi didn't seem to mind, however, content that her lead was loose enough so she could browse the forest floor for thick green blades of summer grass. While her mare was content to graze the blond lady was already hiking up her skirts and exploring the forest. The farther she wandered from her mount the trees began to thin, and suddenly she was met with a lack of earth. Luckily she had stumbled back in time to keep from tumbling down over the lip of the drop-off.

But a quick glance at the sun-bronzed shores and wide expanse of blue-grey ocean the girl was slipping and sliding down the rather muddy slope and clinging to roots with her bare feet. Her heavy laced boots left on the small cliff's edge. It would be an easy climb back, but her white were already stained with orange-brown clay. Mother wouldn't be happy, but Sasha would have no problem covering for her. She hated to use her standing over the servants for her own gain, but mother would only increase the watch on her if word of the girl's adventures reached her.

Her feet hit the sand and she was gone, the wind happy to join in and keep up a brisk breeze that seemed more playful than gusty.

So the girl meandered down her newfound beach, a secret place she doubted another human had touched. She was correct in believing no other human had walked these sandy shores, no something much more reclusive haunted the frothy waters.

Historia had no knowledge of what really lurked here, and waves had covered more than just her footprints on that summer afternoon of her nineteenth birthday. Watching her with slate grey eyes from somewhere within the surf was a creature far more powerful and dangerous than the ones in her nursery story books.

The golden haired girl was reluctant to leave her beach, but she knew if she was not home soon then the toll would be heavy. So she scaled the small cliff with ease, pulling her small frame up over the lip and hastily pulling on her socks and lacing up her brown boots. She was small and delicate, standing at 4'7 and weighing in at just under 100 pounds even though she was turning nineteen. This made her fast and agile however and she gracefully vaulted onto Aponi's back landing lightly and settling onto the curve of her back just behind her withers.

With a squeeze of her legs they were carefully heading back to the manor on the hill where a grand party would be held, celebrating official adulthood for their fair daughter. Her mother had insisted Historia not be introduced to any suitors until her nineteenth birthday, hoping her flat chested daughter to mature a bit more. Her mother soon realized this was as good as it got and she had no doubts the party would be crawling with future husbands flaunting their looks at status.

Historia had a secret, however, one she would be shamed and sent away for. To a mental girls home or something of the sort. She thought it silly as nothing was wrong with her, only she had no interest in the boys who flocked to the manor for a chance at the Reiss daughter's hand.

She had settled Aponi into the pasture with no problem and quickly hurried up to the house, startling a busy Vivian in the kitchen. She didn't say anything though it was ghastly for the lady of the house to enter through the servant's door. She made her way through the servants quarters, each time she passed an apron clad maid they quickly stilled and faced the wall.

She sighed, finding it heartbreaking for the servants to entertain such formalities. She rapped sharply on Sasha's door and the sounds of the maid stirring from her small room sounded through the thin walls separating the room from the cramped hall. An annoyed looking Sasha with her apron disheveled and dark auburn hair hair only half way done poked her head out the door and paled at the sight of Historia.

"M-my Lady! My sincerest apologizes. I wasn't expecting to be called on." She stammered then instantly released what she said and was attempting to plead mercy when the blond held up a hand to stop the maid's frantic reprimands.

"It's quite alright. Nothing will be held against you if you accompany me to my room and help me prepare for the event this evening as well as keep a small secret. You can do that can't you?"

"Why of course!"

"Good, come along."

With that the girl turned on her heel and headed up the back stairs, slipping through the tight space easily. They arrived to an empty room, large and the definition of grandeur.

The walls were a soft elegant blue, the floors plush carpet without a single stain to mar it. The middle of the room held a lofty canopy bed, the satin covers simply sparkling in the light that was streaming through the huge windows that overlooked the sprawling estate's grounds. You could see all the way to the grey smudge that was the sea. The curtains were pulled back to reveal the window bench that Historia so prized.

A door led off to the walk-in closet that was its own room entirely, a plethora of expensive dresses hung by the walls and the beau was shining with the jewelry set on it in neat organized compartments. The mirror was crystal clear and not a speck of paint had chipped on the white of the beau. The fireplace was lit to a gentle glow, preparing to heat the rooms come nightfall. It's white and gray marble pillars framing the small flame as it flickered subdued for now until proper kindling was laid out.

Historia stood in the middle of the closet, and motioned for Sasha as she undressed the young mistress. With Her muddy garments folded neatly in a basket to be sent for washing, Sasha took an elegant sea green dress of the collection. Historia nodded and the maid began to tie the laces once it was on.

Sasha went for a pair of elegant shoes to match but with a stern look from the blond she froze. "My boots will do fine." She said. The maid began to argue then thought better of it, remembering her earlier mistakes and the connection the girl had with the seemingly insignificant shoes and began to lace up her brown boots. To Historia all of her other shoes were stiff and uncomfortable.

After her hair had been done up and her neck assaulted with different necklaces and glittery trinkets the blond headed down the stairs to meet her guests. She stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, the young men already milling around and taking glasses from the servants. They were in their best and Historia couldn't wait til the night was over.

The evening passed slowly, the men flaunting and boasting about their wealth and status to a disinterested Historia. They drank, they ate. They talked. A lot. Her mother caught her by the arm near the end of the festivities and smiled at her. Trailing behind the older women was a chestnut-haired young man. His blue eyes were somewhat cold and he nearly swaggered as he walked.

The older women bent down and whispered harshly to her step daughter. "This is Richard Arics son. Make a good impression." Richard Arics was the wealthiest man in the world. Owing houses in every country, huge stud farms, orchards, factories, everything one with wealth could buy.

"I am Rich Arics first born of Richard Arics, it's a pleasure Ms. Reiss." He reached out to take her hand and she let him. He led her away from the party and to the balcony overlooking the grounds. The distant sounds of laughter and music reminded Historia of how far away they were and she wasn't sure to be relived or on edge.

"Your summer estate is quite lovely, a tad on the bland side, but I guess not everyone can afford the life of luxury and entertainment. I must be honest, I expected more from the wealthy Reiss family. String instruments were a thing last year, but it's simply cliche now." He huffed looking critically at the grounds.

Historia rather enjoyed the music. His gaze drifted down her frame he was at least a foot taller than she was and he eyes her boots disdainfully. " tsk dear, when we are married I must request you at least try to dress like someone of your stature. Please, server boots only take away from your womanly charms." He sneered.

The blond was hurt. These boots were a gift from her birth mother, the one thing that she had managed to hold onto after her father remarried. " I do not believe that is anyway to talk to a lady, much less woo her." She glared her sky colored orbs hard and unamused. Rich seemed taken aback and he laughed harshly. " Oh dear, I will treat you like a lady once you dress like it! Your an absolute riot as if some little daisy like you could find anything better. You should be thankful to have found someone as merciful as me, I'm the best you're going to get and I'm mighty fine too. My wealth, looks, status. I could have just about anyone I want yet here I am wasting time with an underdeveloped child. The things I do to keep my father happy." He clearly wasn't taking her displeasure to heart. Acting like he owned the world. Which unfortunately was pretty much true.

"Hmph if you feel that way than this 'child' will take her leave. You may be rich, but you couldn't get a sow to marry you. Good night Mr. Arics."

Rich only laughed. " Pout all you want." He reached out and grabbed her wrist. Historia froze. " If you are tired I would retire. Parties can be taxing affairs Ms. Reiss. I will be by tomorrow afternoon to discuss wedding arrangements. I don't think your fashion choices would be appropriate for this occasion. We don't have much time." He smiled a slow triumph smile. "

In just two weeks people will be calling you . Sleep well, Historia."

She broke away from his iron grip and hurried up the stairs, her step mother's beaming smile turning to a displeased frown. "That girl is going to give me grey hairs." She muttered, lifting her skirts and hurrying after her fleeing daughter.

The blonde sat on her bed staring blankly at her hands. Marry? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was someone else. Someone who would treat her like something more than a pretty face. It seemed wealth was more important than heart, but she had known this. She always had. Yet she still wished herself away to somewhere where she could be herself. The beach came to mind. A secret place where only she wandered. The wind and sea welcoming her as if she had always belonged.

She rose moving silently across the large room. Countless would marry anyone to have this life. Fancy things and plentiful resources. Wasn't life funny? She had the world at her fingertips, anything she wanted for at her beck and call, everything but what she truly desired. Freedom and acceptance. She sat on the bench and stared out the window wishing for nothing more than a sea breeze to tease her hair. The windows showed off a sweeping landscape green, brown and grey. She could see, but never touch. The blond pressed a small hand to the window pane. See but never touch. The glass was cool under the pads do her fingers, the breeze must be chilly. The windows has been locked long ago. No escape for the daughter of wealth.

Like a beautiful bird caged to show off, the days passed slowly, her skin growing pale and her glow fading. The sun never warmed her freezing mind. Everything she did was in a daze. Dance. Behave. Look pretty. Rich lavished a docile girl with glittery gifts and empty promises of houses and all her heart desired.

As if he could fill the void that chipped away at her. She was quiet. Ignoring Sasha's concern and her mother's elation as she mistook sadness and longing for manners and submission. She never smiled anymore but no one seemed to notice. She was a beautiful creature. Emotionless withdrawal passed off for maturity or an air of mysterious gracefulness. Historia drifted, skirts sweeping the corridors as she wandered, fingers brushing the walls when no one was looking. Her dancing was beautiful but lacked any vigor. She stepped correctly and her dresses made it seems as if she was flowing over the floor. In reality she was sinking. Nothing moved. All was still and silent as the outside world had lost a friend. The wind had no one to chase down the beaches, the waves had not maiden to tease, the earth no child to welcome onto her soft grasses. That child was grown and locked away like a vintage display. See but never touch. Aponi roamed the pastures, her mistress absent. Only the grooms brought her in at night. No one told her how beautiful she was. No one cared enough to blow gently across her nose in an equine greeting like the petite blond used to.

Historia was rarely seen outside her room and quietly requested meals to be brought to her. Her mere 93 pounds has dropped to a dangerously low 78. She was sick. It was clear in the way she moved. The way she stared blankly at the walls. No one noticed as to them she was perfect. Fitting perfectly into the role of a noble bride. Quiet, pretty and compliant. She was a statue at her dress fittings. The attendants oohed and awed but she didn't twirl or show off with a flattering smile.

Finally Historia had had enough of this hollowness that was slowing consuming her and felt utterly stupid for sulking in the first place. The sky was overcast but she didn't care. Using the staff stairs she slipped from her room and was just about to the kitchen door when she met a young maid with a basket of laundry in her arms. Historia held a finger to her lips and the maid nodded, eyes wide. "They should be used to this by now." She muttered to herself once the maid passed. She slipped into the kitchen and swiftly to the door as she heard Vivian bustling around in the pantry for something. With a last glance at the dimly lit room she hurried out of the stuffy manor on the hill and ran towards the stables. She was dressed in her normal white skirts and her hair had been done up in a tight complex updo that was insanely uncomfortable. She was done conforming to their expectations.

She skidded into the stables her boots echoing down the cobbled aisles. The grooms knew her well and smiled from the tack room as the blond hurried past, blue eyes bright. Historia suddenly had an idea so absurd it had her lips upturning in a rebellious smile. She turned on her heel

And stuck her head in the tack room. "Anyone got some scissors?"


	2. Chapter 2: Seabound Specter

A worn slightly rusted pair was tossed her way and she caught it. One of the grooms cocked an eyebrow and she only giggles mischievously in response. "Don't go doing anything stupid little miss." He commented fondly, a toothy grin still lighting his features. "Horses have been missing you round here." She beamed at him but was much too busy to be bothered with a response.

Safely out in the pasture she trekked up the hill to where her pearl colored mare was grazing. At the call of her name a head popped up and ears shoved forward atop her poll. With nicker, the mare rushed forward and was bumping the blond happily. Nuzzling and sniffing under her arms and bumping her chest with a large head. Historia was more than happy to entertain her mare's display of affection and rubbed her forehead fondly. She cradled Aponi's head and blew gently across her muzzle. The lipizzaner mare snorted and blew back, ears alert and chocolate eyes bright.

She laughed and took the scissors from where she tucked them in her boot. She balled the fabric of her ankle length skirt and chopped the colorless material shorter with the dull blades. It hung in jagged edge just under her knees. Feeling free and powerful she yanked down her carefully done hair. It cascading down her back in golden waves. With a smile, the blond raised the scissors to her now mussy locks and chopped it short to just above her scissors quickly vanished from view in the waving grasses, discarded now that she had no further need for them. She reached up to grab a hold of Aponi's white mane and pulled herself onto her strong back. They were off, jumping fences and cantering through the country.

The blond reaches the forest and rode as far as she could before dismounting and leading her mare through the trees. The girl was determined to find a way to get Aponi down to her beach. They weaved and detoured, taking a roundabout route as it would be nearly impossible to get the mare back up the small cliff if she could even coax her down in the first place. Things were so much easier with her shorter skirt and she felt so free with short hair. It was reckless and rebellious. Historia relished her rule breaking new hair length. Her stepmother would throw an absolute fit. The girl giggled. Aponi peeked her ears, seeming to wonder what was so funny.

Finally, through a break in the trees, she could see the bronze shores of her beach. The sea seemed gray and rambunctious under the pewter sky. The Whitecaps dotting the rolling expanse of salty water. The ocean was so life-like. It's moods shifting and changing like the coming and going of the tide. Speaking of which, her bright eyes scanned the shore. The water level had receded drastically from her first venture down the sandy shores. It was low tide, the beach seeming bigger and more barren.

Her pearl colored mare followed patiently as the girl wandered the shore, the water too low to snatch away her footprints. Her boots were left up further on the beach, bare feet making imprints in the sand. They told the story of a lost girl, searching the shoreline for treasures far grander than the ones her to be lover showered her with. They were meaningless shiny things, presented only to make her appear loved, so like his wealth, he could show her off. Like a child with a new toy, running every which way to shove it in everyone's faces, shouting "Look! Look! Look what I have." Then sneering like an immature brat and taunting the less fortunate, all over a new thing not yet marred by hours of rough play.

After some time, she knew, he would grow bored of her. She would sit alone in the back of the closet forgotten, gathering dust as he flaunted a new thing. That's all she was, a thing. Historia didn't realize she was crying until the tears were staining the sound below her downcast eyes, and Aponi was nuzzling and bumping her, wondering what had so suddenly depressed her mistress.

Feeling stupid and confused on why she was crying over something so far beyond her control when she was feeling so free only moments ago, Historia reached up to plant a kiss on the mare's nose and continuing her searching with a little less vigor. It seemed the weight of reality always pulled hardest when one was flying.

The shells she gathered were laid out in a neat line, just by the water's edge, as if she was presented the sea with its lost trinkets. Once the tide rose the shells would be returned to the gray-blue waters, once more claimed by the salty waves.

Aponi's hoof beats were soft against the sand, her breathing synced perfectly with her human companion as the pair nearly floated over the sands. Aponi's stark white coat glistening with sweat as she seemed to glow against the clouds dull canvas.

Suddenly, like an open jawed shark reaching up and snatching a graceful bird off the rolling waves, Aponi planted her feet. Throwing up her muscular neck, the whites of her eyes showing as some unnamed terror spooked the beautiful creature. She went down, front knees hitting the sand and rolling over. The petite girl was thrown from her mount, sent sprawling on the sand, landing on her side with a dull thud. The mare rolled, heaving herself to her feet and taking off in the opposite direction, her still mistress forgotten on the sandy shores as the clouds boiled overhead, brooding and dark.

The blond lifted her head, blue eyes hazy and dazed, watching the white smudge disappear down the beach like the devil was on her tail. Historia sat up, the pain in her side creeping up to her left-behind-brain, which was still soaring over the sands on Aponi's back. She shook her head, sand flying from the disheveled blond strands. The sky was forebrooding and threatening. She got to her feet, dusting the sand from her side, already feeling the bruising.

The smooth sand of the beach was disrupted and scarred, the steady trail of hoofprints ending in a dramatic flurry of crevasses and ruts. She shook her head slowly the fog of shock lifting. A sigh escaped her lips as she whistled, a high long note. No white mare suddenly appeared on the horizon and the girl was about to turn and start off after her mount when something caught her attention.

Halfway up the beach from the lapping waves were what appeared to be skid marks of some sort. Like something was dragged. Historia found this odd, as she was sure no one else had known about the beach, it wasn't exactly easy to get too. Then again, perhaps it was naive to believe everything was hers. She began to follow the trail, whatever had made the path was large as if someone had dragged a chest through the sand. The only thing that threw her off was the claw like marks and scratches in the sand like something had clawed its way up the beach. The young blond got a certain sense of forebrooding at such a puzzling sight, but her curiosity overruled her caution.

The impression wasn't overly deep like it had been dug, but the sand was hard packed. The object must have been heavy. With nothing else to do, the blond followed the trail, leading to nowhere of importance as far as she could tell. The farther the girl wandered from the waves, the more she wished for her boots. The sand had turned coarse with shell fragments that crunched painfully underfoot, yet the trail still plowed through them.

She found it easier to walk on the trail, the weight of the object packing down the shells, making the trek less painful for her bare feet. Sand burrs also proved to be a problem, as she had to stop more than once to pull the pesky things from her feet. It wasn't the most pleasant of experiences and her missing mare should have been more of a priority. But, curiosity is a hard thing to shake and the girl knew if she didn't get to the bottom of this it would bug her, even if it was just some old box. The trail disappeared behind some rocks, the sand was damp here, darker in color as the water soaked into the grains. As she approached the girl swore she heard splashing, but the waves were much too far to be more than background noise. The blond paused, listening intently. There was the distant crash of the waves breaking and the wind bending the tall grasses higher up the dunes. There. Was it breathing? Shallow and slightly labored?

The girl's first thoughts were that whoever had been dragging the heavy object was hurt, or mayhap just exhausted from pulling the mysterious object this far up the beach.

The blond bounded past the rocks and the creature lying in a shallow tide pool looked up, sharp gray eyes hard and cold, terrifying. Historia stumbled back hastily, shock making her clumsy. She slipped and fell back, grasping vainly at the air for purchase. The blond didn't notice she had hurt herself until a harsh stinging started up on her palm and spatter of vibrant crimson stained the coarse sand.

Her sky blue eyes were wide in fear and shock, but a nagging curiosity ate away at the back of her mind. It looked like a normal young woman, perhaps a bit more rugged, with skin bronzed by the sun and a wayward mess of damp hair that stuck to her shoulders, leaving tear stains on the coarse sand. This creature was not a young woman, no it was something else entirely. Something supernatural and superstitious. The closest thing that she could label the creature as was a fantasy from a nursery book. A 'mermaid'. This wasn't right, as this entity was far from the smiling vibrant princesses of the sea.

Historia let out a panicked shriek as the thing launched itself at her. It's claw like nails digging into the sand for purchase. Her mind was a fuzzy mess of adrenaline and panic, a shimmer of stormy scales and a rush of salty air the creature was upon her. Its skin surprising cool. She wasn't sure what exactly she suspected. She was too shocked to move, the creature had flung itself at her with surprising speed and was now far too close. Her mind screamed through its haze, run, flee, escape. Her body was lead, and now that the creature had closed in any chance of escape was impossible. Claws had dug themselves into the sand on either side of her head, she was trapped. She turned her head, closing her eyes and waited. For pain, for claws and fangs. She felt the rough scales on her legs and smelled the salty scent of the creature.

Much to the lady's surprise, no fangs dug into her neck, nor did any claws slash her throat. Instead, damp hair soaked her shoulder as the creature leaned closer. Historia was once more shocked to find her cheeks heating up in a blush. As the creature's head got closer to her neck, the fear returned tenfold, tightening its vice-like grip on the blond. At least she would die in a place she loved, and not stuck in some stuffy old manner after bearing several children. But instead of a deathblow, the girl felt a slight tickling as the creature proceeded to smell the blond, sniffing curiously at her exposed neck. It then moved on to smell the other side of her neck.

Quite confused, the blond relaxed, just laying there. It wasn't like she had much choice, the heavy tail of the creature was pinning her legs down. The girl could get a better look at her so called attacker, aside from dark hair and tanned skin, the creature had eyes to match its scales, a stormy gray like the wind tossed sea. Its face and shoulders were also dotted with freckles, a lot of freckles. Evenly placed slits, as thin and long as cat scratches decorated the sides of its neck. Gills perhaps? That's what made the most sense. There were more scales around the creatures neck and collar bone, as well as patches of varying shades of slate gray to navy blue running up its freckle dotted arms. Lacy webbed fins were right behind its human-like ears, barely visible through its wind tousled locks.

Historia wasn't sure how long she laid there, at the mercy of the seabound creature. It really hadn't done any more than pin her down and gather her scent. It was growing dark and she had to get back soon, as well as find her wayward mare. Despite the terrifying appearance of the creature, it had done her no harm so the girl squirmed under the things hold. The sudden movement sent pins and needles through her legs after such a long period of reduced blood flow. The stinging in her hand started up again as well. The blond winced, but unable to sneak a glance at the wound.

The creature made a sharp clicking noise, almost a growl and Historia froze. The creature relaxed. The girl squirmed again and the creature made the same noise. Despite the creatures protest, the girl kept squirming trying in vain to get out from under the heavy tail. The creature clicked louder then licked the girl on the cheek. She froze. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation. It nuzzled her neck and she felt the rough scales graze her delicate skin, an almost greasy substance followed, but it was cool against her neck and smelled pleasantly of sweet grasses and salty sea water, Her thoughts were muddled like a damp cloth had been thrown over any logical fragments of a thought she might have had. Her pins and needles faded and the stinging in her palm was nonexistence. What had she done to it anyway? The blond couldent quite recall.

The creature curled its lips in a terrifying way, but it was evident that the thing meant her no harm. As odd as it sounds, the creature might be smiling, close to a smile anyway. Its large canines were sword blade sharp and gleamed in the light of the dying sun.

The tide had risen, the sea sounded closer and it brought a certain comfort to both noble lady and dangerous predator. The storm scaled creature turned its head to stare out at the frothy waves. Historia could tell it was torn by the shockingly human scowl that had crept onto its features. Despite the chilly seaside breeze, the girl was warm, a light fuzzy feeling settling in her chest. It made her almost drowsy and any fear or anxiety she might have once pondered was taken away by the coming and goings of the tide. The blond yawned and cool slate eyes returned to her. The creature made a tender sound, almost a coo. The blond shifted her weight, the creature had let up a bit on its pin so she rolled over onto her side, nestling her head in the sand. Oddly content in the salty sands and frothy waves, the girl felt herself slowly succumbing to the holds of sleep, her mind soothed by the rhythmic lullaby pounded out by the waves against the sand.


End file.
